


Unraveling

by sphinxofthenile



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Loki's mind is a box of cats, prince of angst and lies, trailer inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphinxofthenile/pseuds/sphinxofthenile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chains don’t bind. Lies do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unraveling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amcw177](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcw177/gifts).



> Tumblr drabble inspired by the Thor 2 trailer and Charlie being awesome with prompts.

Bound in the lead. The irony is not lost on Loki, and he would laugh, if the sound didn’t taste so bitter.

The path is harsh and the wind is biting, whipping them along towards a goal that could be their salvation but could be their undoing just as easily. Desperation is such a powerful motivation, and they have little choice indeed.

_You must be truly desperate to come to me for help._

Now that Asgard’s might fails, that is when they come crawling back, proud and demanding, in the face of a threat they cannot vanquish with brute force like it is their right and honor. Clenched by the shadows they look down on so, their true power forgotten and denied since Odin and his brothers brought soil and sky to heel at the dawn of the worlds. Irony at its finest indeed.

_So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?_

Fate itself, a cruel parody of life unsullied. Chains don’t bind. Lies do. Or rather, blindness to them. Expectations. Distortions of perception. Power without knowledge is just a blunt instrument of violence. Playing the game of deceit is the higher art of war. 

In the end, they will know. They will understand.

He will make them.

_Is it madness? Is it?_

This is his element, his air to breathe. This chaos, this ruin, all his to embrace, his to thrive on. Such potent magic. Such destruction.

So much power to be had.

When he looks at Thor he can tell that he knows. And yet he doesn’t say anything. He is waiting. Waiting for that moment when he needs to make good on his promise. For the knife in the back or the poison in the heart. Whichever comes first.

Retreated beyond the shield of his recent experience he wields as truth. Thinking it makes a difference. This coldness he wears for armor.

Thor doesn’t know cold. The same way he doesn’t know alone and forgotten. Doesn’t know being _other_.

He will never know.

_Galaxies darkness eons silence memories cold._

Falling free. Unbound. From the fate of the worlds and the falsehoods of a past not of his design. Even if one burns the bridges, the banks of the river stay unmoving, forever defined by the very thing that separates them.

To come so far for so little.

Bound by more than chains, more than blood.

Loki would rather keep falling.


End file.
